"Hiking Katahdin" by Avery Moeykens

Photo by James Fitzgerald https://unsplash.com/photos/pile-ofrocks-I5oLjB_ODac

I jolted awake when my head hit the window, the cold flat surface making contact with my forehead. I opened my heavy eyelids, still drowsy. I looked outside and saw that we were still driving on a dirt road. Raindrops were racing down the window. The sun was just starting to peek through the trees in the woods. I looked up to the front of the car and groaned when I saw that it was only 5:03 a.m. “How much longer until we get there?” I asked, my voice still raspy from waking up.

“Twenty minutes.” My dad replied.

I slumped back into my seat, wrapping my blanket around my body. I closed my eyes and let myself drift back into some much-needed sleep.

After some time, something started poking my arm. I opened my eyes again, and looked to my left. Conner jabbed me in the arm and told me to wake up. Everyone else in the car was starting to get out, so I assumed we were there. I unbuckled my seat belt, fixed my hair, and got out. I stretched out my stiff limbs and got my backpack from the trunk. I looked past the trees to the spot where I knew the mountain was sitting in the distance, waiting for me. But the only things my eyes met with were clouds hanging low, stretching on for what looked like miles, obscuring the tallest mountain in the state of Maine, Mount Katahdin. I guess I would only know the mountain’s true height once I got to the top of it. After a few sips of cool water and a deep breath, I was ready to start hiking.

We finished hiking a smaller trail that eventually led us to the actual mountain. Personally, I think they should have just put the parking lot right next to the mountain, to save everyone from walking three extra miles. After eating a quick snack, we continued down a small, well-used trail that led to a small shack covered by pine trees. There was a window on the shack and a park ranger inside of it. Next to the window was a list of all the trails that would lead us up Katahdin.

“Which one are we going on?” I asked.

“We are going up Cathedral and then going down Saddle,” Matthew replied.

After my aunt and parents talked to the park ranger to sign us all into the trail, we learned that Cathedral was closed, due to the rain, along with some other harder trails. So we decided to go up Saddle.

We continued down the small trail. It opened up to a rocky beach that met with sand and then to crystal clear, flat water. The water perfectly reflected the base of a large hill right behind it. It also reflected the fluffy gray clouds and mist that swallowed the top of the hill leaving the tall, steep, and never-ending slopes to my imagination. I wondered if I was even able to climb this mountain, undoubtedly towering over me even though it was concealed by the low-hanging clouds. I could imagine slowly putting one foot in front of the other as I slowly ascended up the mountain, my whole body aching. But before I could overthink it and change my mind about the hike, I decided to focus on the pond displayed beautifully in front of me again. The sides of the pond were met with a wall of pines, shielding it from anyone behind the trees, who would have no idea this pond lay right in front of them. I really hoped that the view from the top of Katahdin would be as beautiful as this pond, that is, if I even make it up the mountain. We enjoyed the view while my parents were scanning the map, trying to find the correct trail. Eventually, though, we stood up and started.

We had been walking for an hour or so and we still hadn’t started climbing the actual mountain yet. The only interesting things that we had seen were a cute dog and a large stream with a small waterfall. Besides that, it was trees and more trees. Luckily, I wasn’t yet sore from the never-ending trail.

After five or so hours of hiking, the ache in my feet had noticeably grown. Me, Conner, and Matthew had lost my aunt and parents a long time ago because they were too slow. The trail was finally starting to go up Katahdin, gradually getting steeper until we were climbing up a bunch of boulders, all stacked on top of each other. My hands were starting to throb from having to pull my body over the boulders constantly. For every step I took, it felt like I was using every muscle in my body just to lift my foot and place it in front of the other one. My body was aching and groaning as if I were an overused machine that was beginning to break down. I started to think of all of the mountains that I had tried climbing in the past, but inevitably, I had always ended up hiking back down them without ever seeing the peak.

“Are you alright?” Matthew asked.

“Yeah, I’m just tired, you can go on ahead,” I told him.

I had sat down on the side of the trail. It seriously felt like I would collapse if I took another step upward. “Is it worth it?” I kept asking myself. Sure, the peak would definitely have pretty views. Sure, I would have hiked the tallest mountain in Maine. But was hiking this mountain seriously worth making my body sore for days, getting sunburned, and giving myself blisters? I could imagine myself hiking back down the mountain and curling up in my car seat, drifting into sleep with my fuzzy blanket wrapped around me, just like I had been earlier that morning. But, again, I thought back to the previous times in my life when I had quit halfway through hikes; the times I decided to walk back to the car. I remembered feeling regret as I waited for hours until my family came back down from the peak of the mountains. They always showed me pictures of all the views that I didn’t get to see because I had quit. I decided that I wasn’t going to give up this time, I was going to make it to the top. So, despite my entire body screaming in protest, I hauled myself off the rock I was sitting on, and continued climbing, putting one painful step in front of the other. Finally, after miles, I broke through the clouds onto the top of the mountain. I wondered how many other people had been on top of this mountain, the highest place in the state. I wondered if their body ached as much as mine and if they were as sunburnt as me.

There was a gathering of people, the majority of them were taking pictures of the big sign that said “KATAHDIN.” The rest were lounging around on the rocks. A group of four girls all huddled on top of one big rock, eating what appeared to be PB&J sandwiches that they packed. Another group sitting farther up on the mound of rocks looked to be a family. The mom and dad were sitting down, eating crackers, while a younger boy, probably nine or ten, was hopping around on the rocks. On the other side of the mound of rocks, I saw Conner and Matthew sitting down, chatting. Everyone seemed content. Everything was lit up by sunlight. If I looked out from the mountain, of course, I could only see clouds. They were very smooth, almost as if they were hills rolling into each other. It was like I could walk off of the side of the mountain and they would catch me. The only other things you could see were a few mountain peaks piercing through the thick barrier of clouds, making them look like islands in an ocean, unmoving, as the clouds glided past them as if they were waves. A little while later, my aunt and parents made it to the top as well. We all ate and took pictures, cherishing the moment because we knew that this was probably going to be the only time that all of us would hike up Mount Katahdin together. It made the moment all the more memorable.

Despite my feet protesting to rest a little bit longer, we eventually had to start heading back down the long, tiring, and beautiful trail. All I could think about was how pretty the view was, and how thankful I was that I decided to continue hiking. Especially because I got to share my accomplishment with my parents. Instead of feeling regret, like I had on some past hikes when I decided to walk back to the car before getting to the top, I felt proud of myself. I was proud that I didn't give up, despite the ache in my body, and continued hiking until I reached the peak. I couldn’t believe that I was so close to giving up. To think that I almost didn’t get to know what the peak of Katahdin looked like. As I sat in the car, watching the mountains disappear behind me, and the trees rush by me, I could feel my undoubtedly sunburned face, my feet screaming in pain, and my blistered heels more than ever. However, I was leaving with a smile on my face.

Avery Moeykens was born in Grantham, New Hampshire. However, when she was four years old, she moved to Orono, Maine. Avery is thirteen years old, has two siblings, and three cats— Barney, Willy, and Ferble. She plays field hockey, cheer, and softball. Additionally, she likes to cook, paint, and go on runs. When Avery was in the early grades of elementary school, she says she struggled with reading and writing. Now, she enjoys both.